All disclaimers from Part One are still in effect.
Without speaking another word, Johnny strode into his small bedroom and slammed the door, effectively cutting off all contact. Roy found himself completely at a loss for words, but innately understood that his partner should not be alone now. He needed the contact.
Hell, who was he kidding? They both needed the contact, and he sure as the sun rose in the east needed to think.
Did the sun rise in the east? Who cares? Roy scrambled out of the chair and ran to his partner's side, flinging himself inside the bedroom over all protests.
"Well, now what will you do?"
Flicking her long hair out of the way, the brunette peered up at the shadow looming over her and, most importantly, her computer. "Why do you care, Ares?"
The God of War smiled in a way guaranteed to make armies run for cover, but its only effect on this protege of the Muses -- not to mention a healthy apprenticeship under Discord's tutelage -- was to excite her further. Pain and suffering was in the offing for someone. Probably a lot of someones. "When are you going to finish that other story?"
"Which one?" She went back to her editing. "I've got how many stories on the board right now? You need to be more specific than that."
"The one where you're causing major damage to half the major characters."
"See above complaint about specificity."
Ares shook his head in silent amusement. "Crucifixion."
Passion hasn't gone anywhere yet. I need to do more research." Watching her work was like observing a Bacchai in a feeding frenzy. Her whole body moved, dancing in place, mouth and fingers flying, everything else wiggling and jiggling to the music.
All in all, it made an impressive sight. Especially the wiggling and jiggling part. "Those Senfic auction stories you promised? The time limit was only supposed to be a year, you know."
That sarcastic comment earned him a glare. "They also said that Real Life was a factor, and the year limit was best hope." Another poisonous hiss in his direction. "I can't help it if I write slowly."
"Good things come to those who wait."
"You got it."
"And wait and wait and wait."
"If necessary."
"Strange Days?"
"On hold until I finish these three and those auction stories." She grumbled in his direction, and only his exceptional hearing allowed him to make out several impressively creative threats and descriptions of his habits, ancestry, and personal hygiene. Ares again chuckled silently to himself. He'd have to remember that line about cockroaches, molasses, and various pieces of s & m bondage toys for later.
"It took you long enough to finish False Pretenses, and you said you'd have it done three weeks ago."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Not mine."
She snorted. "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday someone will believe you."
"I didn't put in any of those twists and turns, you did."
"I wrote what you guys all told me to write -- I'm just the poor overworked scribe, here." She sighed. "It was bad enough before I got heavily into slash, and kept adding new fandoms. Now I'm on the hook for stories I wouldn't even have concieved of a few years ago." After pounding a few more keys without mercy to within an inch of their electronic nine lives, the author sighed again and glared at the God of War. "Does the sun rise in the east?"
"How should I know? You're the author."
A long keening scream issued from the bedroom, and Ares glanced at the closed door with a raised eyebrow. "I think that's your cue."
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, bending back over her keyboard. "Back to the dungeon....."
Oh my, what's going on in that room? Your guess is as good as mine.
Ideas? Feed the Muses? They'd love to hear from you.
© 1997 evermore4@verizon.net
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